A Million Tiny Pieces
by Tartan-Fairy
Summary: After four months of a loving relationship, Sirius is trouble saying three little words. SBOC


**Hello people, this is just something that's been buzzing around in my mind for some time now, and I finilally put it down in a soild format. I'm not really a writer per-say, so enjoy and if you can please give feedback; any sort; flames included. Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Pair: SB/OC**

**Chapter One**

When I saw you, my heart soared.

But when I saw her, holding your hand,

My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Sirius breathed in deeply, taking in every scent around him. The faint linger of soap from the bathroom, the jasmine from the bedroom, the coal from the fire place and the spice from the kitchen. He closed his eyes, and let the smells engulf in mind, body and soul.

He shook himself, shaking the emotions which were building up away from him. He turned and walked towards the door, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he went.

Opening the door he let himself out of the small London studio flat. Sirius leaned his forehead against the grain of the door, and tried to memories the patterns and shapes which were embedded in the wood.

He took another breath and tried to rid himself of the pain which had settled in his heart. And, with a pop the handsome young man had vanished to a far away place, which was the perfect dichotomy to the clean and crisp Studio space and the old, run down Victorian house he found himself in.

Abby woke with a start. Jerking away the sleep which had consumed her for the some hours now, she blindly reached over to the other side of the large heavily blanketed bed.

She numbly felt for the warm bodily figure which she usually curled up against in the night. Finding the space vacant, but still warm she rolled over, pulling the covers close to gain that little extra bit of warmth.

Some time later, a ringing sound alerted Abby that it was time to leave the warmth of the large bed. Getting up, she pottered around the studio flat getting herself ready for work that day.

Leaving the flat, she bypassed the elevator and forced herself to take the stairs down to the busy London street below. Taking the muggle way to work was an event that occurred a few days a week, particularly on those which she was early or feeling adventurous.

On the tube towards the center of the hectic British city she checked her dairy for the appointments for the day. The red ink retold the main event of the day. The one which she had been looking forward too for some time now.

_Me and Sirius, 4 months_

Her cheeks twitched with joy. Although Sirius and herself f had their problems like another couple, they had so much in common, well so much so considering that she was a shy, quiet, artistic type whilst he; was loud, spontaneous and full of rebellion.

They had four months together, filled with love, laughs and comfort. Abby had trouble sometimes that Sirius was her boyfriend to begin with. There were so many other witches walking along Diagon Alley that day and he bumped into her out of all of them. Not that Abby had low self-esteem or anything of the sort but she did find it strange that a man of Sirius' good looks, personality and reputation was infatuated with her of all people. The world is filled with strange and wondrous things, and considering that she was a witch and Sirius a wizard, there are many strange things indeed.

Upon her arrival at the Ministry of Magic Abbey went to work as a researcher for the Department of Magical Resources. Making notes and recording various amount of information for all Departments and Sub-Departments of the Ministry. The day passed like a giddy blur of parchment and quills, with six o'clock not coming and arriving soon enough.

The young witch found herself at the small Studio Flat which she and Sirius had a rendezvous the previous evening and went about cleaning and making preparations for that evening celebrations.

Meanwhile, in an old and rundown Victorian house in the countryside, some miles away sat a young man. Hunched over a worn-out dining table. His black hair, usually sitting around his handsome face with grace and charm; evaded no such traits as it covered his grey eyes from the world.

**I hope you liked this, for there is more to come. Please review in any shape, way or form, flames included. Thank you!**

**TartanFairy xoxo**


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